The Red Girl
by Kastoway
Summary: A story about my Creepypasta OC Red. Her real name is Caesie Jones, but after all the tragedy in the story, she becomes "The Red Girl" or "Red", proxy of Slenderman.


"Throw it in!" Voices carried over the baseball field loudly, laughs and angry grunts. It was like this every day when the neighborhood kids gathered for a game of ball, almost like a scene off of "The Sandlot" without the giant dog.

The sun beat down in a hot frenzy, covering the lot of kids in a pool of sweat. All but one that was. Caesie Jones stood, leaning on the fence as her converse absently scuffed the sand that covered the area and the outskirts, her green eyes watching steadily as the kids tossed the ball about.

Caesie stood here every day when the kids came out. All were at her age, a nice easy seventeen, some a tad younger. She longed to play with the other children, as she could wield a bat fairly well, and her strong throwing arm was superb. However, she struggled when asked.

"Are you going to play now, Caesie?" A kid called curiously. That's when Caesie would feel it kick in, bubble in her mind. Did she want to play? Yes….No…maybe not….but she did…..Caesie clutched her head, eyes wide. How could she help her Aboulomania?

"Sam! You know you aren't supposed to ask that freak that! She'll just start screaming!" One of the other players hissed to their friend. Freak….Why? Because she was blind in one eye? Because she had a rather rare disorder?...

Caesie gave a soft chuckle, shoes scuffing again. A freak….

Her thoughts were subdued as she heard a familiar voice call her in for supper. Her mother's voice. God how she hated the witch.

Caesie retreated back to the direction of her shabby suburban home, hands shoved deeply in the pockets of her dark grey hoodie, as if peace might lay deep inside.

"Get over here you brat!" Her mother hissed. Ah yes, Miss Jones, a divorced demon of a mother. Caesie had received her red hair from her mother, a bright coppery color that shone in the sun. But her green eyes came from her adored father.

Why? Why didn't her father take her with him? Caesie felt her fists clench tight at her sides as she tore the depressing thoughts away. Right. She no longer adored her father. He'd left her alone with he witch.

Slowly, Caesie made her way up the steps and through the door, ignoring her mother's death glare. She supposed it was time to switch the bandages over her useless left eye. Caesie made her way up the rickety stairs to her very slightly decorated room.

What was in her room was always about baseball. Her prized bat she had received from her father years ago lay leaned against the wall. Her pale fingers brushed it gently as she passed to her little restroom, latching on and taking it with her.

Caesie fumbled, hitting the light switch and gazing at her appearance in the mirror. Shoulder length red hair, small and lanky body, rather short in height, one green hued green eye. Curse that eye. It might as well see black as the other did. No, not black. Just nothing. Absolutely nothing. Then she wouldn't have to put up with seeing the stupid world.

Her fingers moved once more, peeling away at the bandages that covered half of her face to reveal her stupid, useless blind eye. The bandage served only for a way to hide it from her own sight. It was all her mother's fault that it was useless in the first place.

Her mother. Stupid Miss Jones. Everything was her fault. She had drove dad away. She had given her this stupid useless eye. She was the reason Caesie's life was in ruins.

Caesie stopped, peering harder into the reflection in the mirror. She could have sworn a tall, slender figure with a featureless white face and suit had been in the background. But when she turned, no one was there…..

'It's your schizophrenia…' Caesie thought. Had to be.

The girl could feel the hate bubbling up in her chest. She could hear the door open downstairs. Fancy that, her mother was going out on a walk to smoke a bit.

The sharp gleam of the mirror seemed to taunt the teenage girl whom peered into it. "Go ahead. Break me. Use me." She held her head. Should she do it? No she couldn't possibly. But should she? Should she?!

"CRACK." Down came the mirror, shattering to pieces before Caesie. Her hand oozed red liquid from the cut received when she had slammed the reflective object hard enough to reduce it to fragments.

Her hands redid her bandages over her left eye, hands grabbing a large piece of the broken glass. No. What a grand idea she had. She didn't need this eye. Didn't need it at all. Caesie ripped her bandages off, taking the sharp piece of glass and raising it. Now. Yes, finally, now. Horrid gushing sounds emitted through the room as she jabbed the shard right into her eye, holding back screams so her mother downstairs wouldn't here. Oh how terribly hard it was...how terribly hard it should have been. Laughter shot from her, cracking her throat wickedly as it cackled out. Sweet laughter, no more eye. No more eye.

The blood oozed slowly down her cheek, as well as other liquids, tears perhaps that had once worked to keep her eye from drying out.

Slowly Caesie redid her bandages.

Caesie's footsteps echoed back down the stairs, bangs bouncing in her face as she made her way down. She could see her mother's figure looming down the street as she stepped out the door. Right by an ally.

My, how perfect.

Caesie could feel herself running, wind whipping wildly in her face as she gained speed. Her bat rest tightly in one hand, the shard of glass in the other. With a swing she slammed her mother into the ally, pouncing on her. No eye, No eye!

Miss Jones looked up groggily at her attacker, catching the red hair in the darkness. "C-Caesie? W-What are you-?!"

SLAM

The bat came down again. Caesie abandoned the glass shard, swinging rapidly as she pounded the wooden club down and down on her mother's wincing figure. "No eye! No eye! Ahahaha!" The laughter came again.

Nasty cracks echoed in the air as Caesie smacked down on the rib's of her victim, then proceeding to bash in the bloody woman's skull, giddily cackling as she flattened the witch.

One of her pale hands reached down, slowly touching some of the hot liquid that pulsed out of the various places Caesie had busted open. Why? Why didn't she feel guilt and remorse? Only the tiniest twinge of her heart? This was her mother...no, it was the witch, but still..no..yes...

The girl collapsed by the beaten body of one she loved long ago, hugging her knees. She didn't cry, didn't do anything but sit there and listen as she was discovered, listen to the scream of her finder. The police siren's wails that drew closer.

Something touched her shoulder. Caesie looked up to see the source of the gentle yet rushed touch she had received, smiling softly at the form. It was the figure from her mirror, towering over her.

Hot tears raced down her cheeks, sticking to her face. "I'm ready." Caesie spoke softly. "You can kill me now." She was encouraged up by the figure she believed was here to send her to her doom, feeling it's boney hands on her shoulders. To her surprise though, she didn't go black moments later. No...she did.

But Caesie Jones awoke in the middle of a room, a circle of faces peering at her with mixed expressions. "Where...?"

The End .u.


End file.
